Then came the javelin-men, walking four abreast, and lastly, a long line of constables, marching in the same order. He displayed none of the airy optimism of their previous talk over the downland gate. The act was mechanical, a bit of sparring for time: his anger was searching about for a new vent. ’ ‘Your husband?’ Gerald tutted. Sheppard. I’ve got no feminine class feeling. Walpole's order to that effect—but not before.
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